I Wish I'd Been There
by TheLionBone
Summary: Short Story. Based on The Living Tombstone's "It's Been So Long". Maxwell, feeling neglected by his mother, wanders and finds Freddy's Pizzeria still open. What kind of public restaurant is open at night? As Maxwell finds out, he is sucked into a party far beyond what he expected. With four other kids, he's about to find out what's really going on. (Death and gore label)


Maxwell tugged at his mother's skirt, feeling the soft fabric between his soapy-clean fingers as he pulled and felt the resilience which held it tight to his mother's thin waist. She was a tall woman, with features as stunning as an office clerk would appear to be: brilliant blonde hair tied up into a stylish mixture of a bun and ponytail, a white shirt that was baggy at the shoulders and waistline, and a mid-length red skirt accompanied by nylons and black heels. Maxwell was about as similar to his mother as he could get; he had the same blonde hair, shorter and messier of course, as well as a thin figure and immature handsome features, labeled as "cute" for his eight-year-old age. The biggest difference were the eyes. His mother had the most piercing blue eyes, like glass that showed an endless sea of deep, rich color. They held so much beauty within them, Maxwell was so abashed as to look at them. All he had were brown eyes, at least, was what his mother thought whenever she took a rare second to glance at them. As for Maxwell, he was indifferent. He didn't care. All he wanted was his mother's attention.

"Mom...Mom..." he whispered as gently and calmly as he could as to not sound like he was nagging. He tugged at the skirt again, a little harder this time just to make sure she felt it. She didn't even blink. The phone was still pressed up close to her ear, and she talked to her colleague as if there wasn't a child by her. The only reminder of her motherly heritage was the golden teddy bear she had grasped in her spare arm; Maxwell had won it inside the pizzeria they had went to not an hour ago for one of his friend's birthday parties. It was right around the block, but it would be closed by now; it was late and getting darker and darker by the minute. Being the only and unwanted child in the family, Maxwell wasn't given much credit for his existence. But he kept trying, nonetheless. There had to be something more for him, he reminded himself constantly. But what? What was there to be had?

"Tell him I can get the papers to him by next Monday," his mother was saying, twiddling the phone cord with her pointer finger, the one on the hand she was using to hold up the phone. Maxwell gave on last tug. Nothing. She was completely out of it. He reluctantly let go of the skirt and took a few steps back to give her some space. His mother seemed to stand up a little taller once he had let go. Even if it were true, he didn't let the fact get to him. That was just the way it was. So he stood a few feet back, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, waiting for the hour when his mother would finally remember that she had a child to take care of and go home.

But then music started playing. Familiar music. Maxwell looked up from the ground to his left where lights were beginning to flash; they were resonating from a store around the corner, causing colors of red, blue, green, and yellow to dance on the sidewalk and street. Maxwell took one look at his mother. She was talking away, her back to him, her finger continuing to twiddle with the cord, her foot tapping impatiently for an efficient response from the colleague. He thought about how long last time it took for her to remember him. Hours, it felt. Deciding then that he would quickly check out the commotion and come back, Maxwell took a few steps, felt he was safe, and then ran down the sidewalk toward the flashing colors, mesmerized and excited. _Mom, I'll be back soon,_ he thought and smiled.

As he had thought, it was the pizzeria. The lights around the entrance were blazing wildly, showing clearly the "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza" restaurant name. A teddy bear, representing the main host, Freddy, was outlined in brown lights beside the title, tipping his hat in welcome. His main tune was being played, the one Maxwell had heard at the birthday party, which was why it had sounded so familiar around the corner. Maxwell remembered the animatronics all too well; their voice boxes were a little shaky, their movements were a little stiff and delayed, but they were fun at the same time. There was always optimism, care, and feeling that the animatronics had. He felt safe there, playing with the restaurant hosts, as well as all the other children. They were all good memories, ones that he cherished. _Could I see them again?_ He wondered, clenching his fists and glancing in uncertainty at the doors. _Would Mom let us eat here on another night?_ Another opportunity in the restaurant seemed months away.

But the door was open, strangely enough. Maxwell noticed it as soon as a gust of wind blew in; one of the green double doors was pushed back by the force, revealing a thin slit of dark opening. It was clearly unlocked. Maxwell approached it cautiously, copying his mother's tentative movements when she inspected an area that was unfamiliar to her. Feeling that it was safe, he gently pushed the door, and with an eerie creak, it opened up further, revealing the dark lobby beyond. Yes, it was dark and looked to be unused, but the hallway lights were on and there was more music being played. Listening closely, Maxwell swore that he heard the laughter and shrills of other children. It was strange; he had never thought that the pizzeria was in business at night, but a secret party seemed to be going on. He stepped away from the door and to the corner of the block where he checked on his mother, where he saw that she was still on the phone. Deciding he had extra time, Maxwell approached the doors again, pushed it a little wider, and walked into the pizzeria.

Once he had disappeared down a series of hallways, the most peculiar thing happened. The lights and the music immediately turned off. The Freddy light show slowed down mid-way to where his hat was taken off. The road and the sidewalk became dead silent. And slowly, without warning, the green door was gently pushed forward. It's creaking continued until it was closed completely. Then came a little sound. A sound that showed nothing except a simple, unbreakable lock. _Click._

Around the corner, a mother was finishing her conversation. She said her brief farewells and hung up the phone, letting out a sigh of relief and annoyance. She turned around, expecting to see a blond-haired child standing nearby, waiting patiently for her to take him home. But there was no one there. Everything was still. Taking a look in all directions, the beautiful woman said, "Maxwell?"

Maxwell's curiosity was overwhelming. As he continued down the lighted hallways, the sounds in the stage room were more distinguishable. He _had_ heard children, and they were still laughing about a joke or scene that he was eager to be a part of. Walking a little more briskly, craving the moment where his happiness would be fulfilled, he stopped to the half-open door of the stage room. Flashing lights of all colors were pouring out of the openings, constantly exchanging and mixing and blending to make a wonderful show. Maxwell knew there were animatronics on the stage; a guitar was playing, there was the smell of pizza, and the most wonderful voice was singing into a fake microphone: Freddy Fazbear, Maxwell's favorite. Without hesitating any further, he stepped into the stage room, gasping in excitement and wonder and eagerness for fun.

All of the familiar animatronics were there. Bonnie the Bunny was playing away at his guitar, nodding his head to the tune of it, his bunny ears flapping wildly. Chica the Chicken was dancing, twirling and swaying, all the while holding a plate with a smiling cupcake on it. Freddy the Bear was holding the microphone close to his voice box, going through the natural routine of singing along to his tune. At the bottom of the stage were four children: a tall boy, a cute girl, a dark-skinned boy, and a sagging boy. They all were cheering the animatronics on, laughing at their own singing, their own dancing, and their own air-guitar movements, for they knew that they looked and were silly for having a good time. Maxwell grinned at the scene, knowing that this was a good place. This was a safe place. This was a perfect place to have fun. As quickly as he took in his surroundings, he went to join them, and the four children turned to greet him.

"Hey, what's this all about?" Maxwell panted, struggling out of his coat to reveal his blue T-shirt. The tall boy, who looked to be about eleven years of age, grinned and leaned against the dark-skinned boy.

"How'd you get in? This place only opened for us."

"It was open when I came across it," Maxwell replied somewhat stubbornly, relieved to use some attitude around kids his age.

"Then you must have been chosen too," the tall boy concluded with an approving tone, nodding.

"Chosen for what?" Maxwell couldn't help but to ask.

"Freddy's birthday party," the dark-skinned boy pointed out, extending an arm towards the animatronics. He tried to copy the tall boy's cocky grin, but just couldn't nail it. "Only the four of us were asked especially by Freddy himself to attend. We didn't think that he would invite another one, though I guess you're decent." He turned back to the party, waving his fist in the air to the time of the music. The tall boy shook his head and looked back at Maxwell.

"Name?"

"Max," Maxwell answered, standing up a little taller to look bigger. The tall boy noticed the movement and couldn't help but to chuckle.

"You can take it easy around us. I'm Fenny," the older one explained, then pointed his thumb back to the dark-skinned boy. "Chocolate over there is called Brigham." Maxwell understood the joke, but didn't think it was that funny. Nonetheless, he gave out a polite smile and walked with Fenny to the other two children, the cute girl and the sagging boy. Both looked a little uneasy with the new company, but the presence of Fenny seemed to calm them.

"Kid's Max," Fenny told them. "Remember to play nice. This party's for Freddy."

"Oh, I'm Chessie," the cute girl piped up, grasping Max's hand. She looked to be around the age of Fenny, except her hair was much more tidier, and if she were sixteen, she could be labeled as beautiful. Maybe even as beautiful as Maxwell's mother as long as she took good care of herself. Max accepted the gesture and glanced at the sagging boy. His shyness was apparent.

"Um...Max...right? I-I'm Philip." Maxwell nodded to him and smiled. Philip smiled back, relieved to have received kindness in return for his remarks.

Maxwell could see that all of them were interesting in their appearance and personality. Fenny was definitely tall for his age and had sort of spiky light brown hair that was shown as long in the front and shorter in the back. He wore a red sweatshirt and didn't seem to be bothered by the heat as much. Along with that were blue jeans and converse; he looked a lot older than what he was. As for Brigham, he stuck with a traditional T-shirt: green with white stripes. He wore beige shorts, despite the cold season, along with cool sneakers that lip up in the darkness. His black hair was fuzzy and a mess. Chessie was dressed better than all of them. She wore a cute white shirt with laces and had a dark blue skirt on as well as tights and black-toe shoes. Her whitish-blonde hair was tied into pigtails. Philip's outfit was decent. The orange T-shirt and tan shorts were way too baggy for him, but they stayed on, much to everyone's relief. His dirty-blond hair was short and stuck up in some places. All of them seemed to know each other very well. Maxwell hoped that he could be a part of it soon, as long as it lasted for.

"Any activities planned?" Maxwell prompted once he found Fenny at one of the long tables.

"I guess dancing and singing for now," Fenny said, then turned to show Maxwell what he found. "Care for some pizza?"

"No way!" Maxwell exclaimed. "They still make it, even after night hours?"

"Someone did," Fenny reminded with a shrug. "But it's kind of predictable, this being _Freddy's_ birthday party and all."

"Why not have it during day hours?" Maxwell asked, suspicion weighing on the question.

"Because _we_ have a special place in Freddy's heart," Fenny said. "We were the only ones to be here to celebrate this occasion with him, and we should respect his decision. This was how he wanted it to be." As much as Maxwell was flattered by the thought, he still felt that something was wrong about the situation. If he had a party of his own, and had his own free choice to decide how it went, he would invite as many people as possible, not just a chosen few. That way, everyone could enjoy the birthday celebration and activities. Maxwell still couldn't wrap his head around it, but he didn't have enough time to think, for suddenly, the stage lights flicked off and the animatronics walked off. Everyone looked at Fenny, who just shrugged again.

"I guess dancing and singing is over," was all he could say.

"What should we do now?" Philip inquired in a slight stammer.

"Yeah, and will the animatronics be back?" Chessie further pressed.

"I don't know, but I'm feeling hungry," Brigham stated, plopping down at the nearest chair and diving into a new pizza pie. The rest of the group looked at the pizza and their stomachs began to growl. Maxwell remembered the dinner he had before at the birthday party, the same pizza being served now, but with being in a new group, he felt he had extra room in his stomach. He sat by the rest of the children and brought a slice onto his plate.

"The plan is," Fenny said in between bites of pizza, "we'll eat until one of the animatronics come back, okay? Freddy won't leave us alone for long."

So the group sat together and ate, talking about interests and past experiences at the pizzeria. Maxwell talked a lot to Fenny about how much Freddy was his favorite character in the cast, how he was so welcoming and was such a great host. Fenny shared the same feelings; he pointed out that Freddy was the star of the show, and because of that, he should be the star in everyone's hearts. Then the other children started throwing in their own opinions at Fenny, but Maxwell felt he agreed with his new friend. Freddy was special; he was definitely one of a kind. No one could replace him, as much as no one could replace Fenny or the other kids. Maxwell leaned back into his seat, a new revelation falling upon him. Could he ever be replaced?

"Maxwell!" the mother cried, running down the sidewalk, the teddy bear hugged tight to her chest, her face washed over in tears. "Maxwell, where are you?!"

She felt she had failed at three things in her life. The set-up with Maxwell's father that one night. The birth of Maxwell. And now, failing to keep watch of the only son she had and making sure he was okay. True, she never paid much attention to the kid, but it just dawned on her on the possibility of Maxwell's disappearance and it being on her head. She thought about all of those opportunities to spend time with her only child, and her heart teared in pity and shame and sadness. She hadn't cared that much, but Maxwell was still her child. Her kid. Her baby. She wept for his cause.

Back and forth she traveled, looking for any signs of the boy. Once or twice she passed Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria, looking empty with the lights off and the door locked. She called and called her child's name again and again, hoping for any sort of response, but there was none. And while she searched, something was about to unfold in the pizzeria, and she wouldn't know to be there to stop it.

As Fenny had predicted, Freddy did come back. The animatronic made its entrance through the door into the stage room, holding a platter with plates full of mini cakes. Some where chocolate. Others were vanilla. A few had a mixture between the two. But all of them had frosting and chocolate syrup and sprinkles and a tiny cherry on top. The children smiled happily as they slipped off of their seats, their stomachs mostly stuffed from pizza, to approach the bear figure.

They were surprised to find that it wasn't the regular brown-furred Freddy that they were used to. This one had golden fur and walked in a more sure and confident fashion. Maxwell stood close-by the group as they leaned in to expect the treats on Freddy's platter. Whenever one of them stuck a hand out to grab a plate, Freddy would pull the platter back, just out of their reach. They looked at him, confused for his actions, and then he promptly turned around and began walking down the hallway. Maxwell watched his steps closely, amazed by how clean the movements were. Whoever made the improvements on this "Golden Freddy" was precise. Everything about it was spot-on, especially the sensors that indicated children trying to take the cake pieces.

The children followed, by the lead of Fenny, after Golden Freddy. They walked down a short distance towards a small room with a silver door that was labeled _Employees Only._ Despite the warning, Golden Freddy stood off to the side, indicating them to enter with a slight wave of his hand. Fenny went in first, sure about the whole circumstance, followed by Brigham, Chessie, Philip, and lastly Maxwell. As he took up the anchor in the line, he glanced up at Golden Freddy, and a shiver passed through him when he realized that those eyes were staring straight at him. They held no optimism or care or feeling. They were piercing, those eyes, like daggers. They seemed to be criticizing, blaming, planning something dangerous. Maxwell blinked back, trembling at his arms and legs. Golden Freddy continued to give him that look until Maxwell couldn't help but to look away and join his new group of friends.

They were in the storage unit, filled with extra pieces of animatronics as well as masks, endoskeletons, and costumes. In the middle of the room was another long table. Golden Freddy closed the door after he was the last one to enter and place the platter onto the table. Somehow, the platter of many cakes only turned out to be four cakes, much to Maxwell's perplex. Why were there only so few limited options, and not enough to go around? He wanted to look at Golden Freddy for help, but after experiencing that dark and angry look, he was afraid to meet eye contact again. Fenny and the other kids seemed to notice the problem and began discussing how they were going to slice up the pieces. During this time, Golden Freddy seemed to step back from their presence, open the door, and then leave. Maxwell saw the whole thing play out, and he was scared as well as troubled. Something amiss was going on. He just didn't know how to handle it.

"Hey, look, they have masks of all the animatronics!" Chessie suddenly exclaimed, drawing away from her food to marvel at the sets around them. She grabbed at the nearest mask, a Chica mask, and raised it over her head, giggling at the gawked expressions the other kids were giving her. She began to try and dance like Chica on stage, and immediately, the children began to laugh, all except for Maxwell, who had a feeling of foreboding; it all seemed too planned.

"Ooh, I'll play the air guitar!" Brigham said, pulling the nearest Bonnie mask over his face, banging his head so the ears flopped and waving his fingers wildly as if he were strumming. Meanwhile, Philip reached for a Foxy mask, and hesitantly drew it over his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and jumped, scared by his new looks. Fenny had found a Freddy mask and was pretending to sing into a microphone.

Maxwell watched as all of the children pretended they were the characters in the restaurant, and then he understood. There were only four children invited, four animatronics to entertain them, four slices of cake to serve. It had been this way all along, and he had stumbled upon a rare circumstance where he had gotten in the way. The Golden Freddy, the "friendly" host, had glared at him because he didn't belong with this group. He wasn't supposed to be here. But he was in the middle of it all, and soon, he would be with them, whatever was going to happen. Whether he liked it or not.

"F-Fenny," Maxwell said, his voice cracking.

"Yeah, Max?" Fenny asked, not seeming to notice the tears streaming down the little boy's face. Maxwell swallowed heavily.

"We need to leave. Now."

"Are you crazy?" Fenny laughed. "The party's just getting started! We could be here all night!"

"Or we could be home with our parents, safe in our beds!" Maxwell shouted. Immediately, all of the children turned to look at him, sensing the trouble.

"What are you talking about?" Brigham demanded.

"We can't trust him," Maxwell argued, his body trembling even more and more.

"Trust who?" Philip whispered, the fear in him affecting his speech.

"Golden Freddy!" Maxwell persisted. "He's going to hurt us! Bad things are going to happen unless we leave _right now_!"

The door opened behind them, and the children stared in shock at the figure. Maxwell looked down to see the shadow that fell upon him. It was Freddy, but not just any animatronic Freddy. It was Golden Freddy; he could tell because the costume was much more organized and profound. The stranger was there, and there was something in his hand. Maxwell could see by the expression in the children's eyes that it wasn't anything good. Slowly looking over his shoulder, Maxwell held his breath when he saw the flash of metal, the glint of light against the blade. It was a knife, poised to strike.

"Run!" Fenny shouted, throwing the Freddy mask aside and racing towards the doorway where the figure stood. Maxwell caught his senses first and ducked in between the open legs of the Golden Freddy, and he could feel the rush of wind as the blade was sliced in his direction. It barely missed him, and he sprinted down the nearest hallway, trying to memorize the paths which led to the exit, to the place where his mother would be waiting for him with open arms.

His mother. The thought brought tears to Maxwell's eyes as he finally remembered that his mother outside. She must be fearing so much, he thought painfully, once she would realize that he was gone. Would she know that he was here? That someone was trying to kill him?

A nudge from behind brought Maxwell back to his senses. Fenny was right on his tracks, his eyes wild with frantic expression, his body boosting with adrenaline. "Keep moving!" Maxwell obeyed, but couldn't help to throw a look over his shoulder. There was no one following them.

"Where are the others?" he cried, thinking of Brigham, Chessie, and Philip.

A scream answered his words, a heart-piercing scream. It was the shrill cry of a child suffering, begging, pleading, crying. The sound made Maxwell's blood turn cold, and looking over at Fenny, he could see the same reaction, for the older boy's body was trembling and his eyes were widening in shock and dismay. Fenny's bottom lip began to quiver.

"Brigham..." he whispered, and it was so small that Maxwell almost didn't catch it. But he knew what the older boy meant. With the dark-skinned boy being his closest friend, he could recognize his voice anywhere, whether it was a laugh, a complaint, a compliment...or even a scream. Maxwell imagined that knife, inches away from his head, and his heart twisted in sympathy for Brigham; he had just escaped death in that moment. And what of Brigham? While his friends were running, trying to get away, he had been caught, cornered, and now slaughtered by that dreadful weapon, by that dreadful man in that dreadfully fake Golden Freddy suit. Maxwell cried openly, and so did Fenny. In silent body language, they continued directing each other to the where they thought the exit was, all the while remaining scared out of their lives, hoping that they would survive, hoping that all of the other children would survive too.

The two jumped when they came into contact with another child; Philip. The sagging boy had been running at them from the opposite direction, and with the lights flickering, all Maxwell and Fenny could see was a figure in the darkness. But once the bagging clothes were identified and the face of the panicked, tear-stained child that they knew, they forced their bodies to relax and approach Philip.

"Where's Chessie?" Fenny demanded, his voice shaking.

"I-I don't know...she was right behind me," Philip answered honestly, looking over his shoulder and finding nothing behind him. His eyes widened at the realization. "Golden Freddy...h-he was after us. A-and she just said to keep running. I-I don't i-if Golden F-Freddy got her o-or if sh-she got away, but..." he trailed off, his voice becoming extremely unsteady. Then the tears began to downpour from his eyes, and Philip hugged himself, his teeth chattering. "Are we g-going to d-die? L-like Brigham? W-will Chessie d-die too?" Fenny embraced the kid, refusing him to speak any more about the matter. It was causing them too much damage and too much time to think about; they needed to find an escape route, and fast.

"Stick with us," Fenny commanded, holding Philip's hand and practically dragging him in the direction he and Maxwell were heading. Philip saw what the older boy was doing and shook his head rapidly, wails rising up from his chest.

"No! That's the way I came! He's there! Golden Freddy will be there!" Philip moaned in fear. Maxwell and Fenny exchanged a look, and they both knew that they had to improvise. There had to be another way, one that did not involve meeting up with the Golden Freddy.

But as Fenny was about to open up his mouth to speak, a shriek rose up from the midsts of the restaurant, its sound resonating from down the hallway that Philip refused to continue on. The three knew exactly what it was that happened as soon as the shriek ended in a gurgling sound and coughing and spitting and choking. It became dead silent after that, and the terror rose up within them again.

"Chessie, no!" Philip screamed, trying to pull against Fenny's grasp. The older boy refused to let go, and Philip looked back at him with wild eyes, spit forming at his mouth. He kicked and punched, but his weak body wouldn't let him escape. He resulted to biting, and Fenny threw Philip to the ground, anger shining in his gaze.

"Are you crazy?! Golden Freddy will know exactly where we are!" Fenny spat. "Just shut your mouth!" Philip lay stunned on the floor, and he wiped his mouth with one of his scrawny arms.

"I don't care anymore," Philip murmured, pushing himself to his feet. "I-it's my fault Chessie is dead. I didn't make sure she was with me...I didn't make sure she was safe." He glanced down the hallway where the scream had come from and his fists clenched. "I'm going back. I have to make sure she's okay."

"She's dead, Phil!" Fenny insisted, reaching for the boy's arm. When Philip pulled it back, Fenny stomped his foot impatiently. "If you don't come with us, you'll die too! Chessie wouldn't want that, would she? She would want us to escape all together, right? Please don't make this any harder for us!" Philip's eyes flashed in alarm.

"She wouldn't want to die alone either..." he said through gritted teeth, and without warning, ran down the hallway faster than any kid, even faster than Fenny himself. Fenny tried to grab him as he went past, but was a second too late. He watched the scrawny figure disappear down the flickering lights and his face cringed in pain. He glanced over at Maxwell, who was visibly crying again. Fenny shook his head and grasped Maxwell's hand, pulling him along. "Let's go," he whispered. "Philip will buy us some extra time, but we have to move now." Maxwell bowed his head down so his face couldn't be seen. His body shook with his sobs. But they kept moving. And all the while, Philip with moving every second faster towards his own inevitable death.

Not thirty seconds later came the scream Fenny and Maxwell were bracing for, but to their shock, it was right ahead of them. They cautiously drew themselves forward, stiffened by the horrible sound that made them tremble in madness. Fenny and Maxwell turned their heads around the corner and both held back a cry that immediately rose from their chests.

Philip was there, with Golden Freddy holding him by the neck, keeping him stretched out and still. Philip was kicking and punching with all of his might, but because he couldn't knock down Fenny, there was no way he could take on an adult in an animatronic costume. His mouth was parted, with blood gushing out of the sides, and he was spitting and screaming and wishing that the pain would stop. Meanwhile, Golden Freddy was stabbing him. The knife drew up then lashed back down. In and out. In and out. In and out. It was a gory sight to behold, and Maxwell felt himself want to throw up. Fenny gripped his stomach and turned away, releasing what was in it. Once that happened, Maxwell did the same. All the while their friend was being murdered by the hands of Golden Freddy, and they couldn't do anything about it.

The two were about to leave, as they felt that it was the only opportunity left to escape, when Fenny slipped on the vomit and crashed back so that his head was exposed to the killer. Golden Freddy, his knife raised in the air, snapped his head to look in the direction of the older kid. Maxwell went to help Fenny up, but he was seen too, and Golden Freddy abandoned the stabbed Philip to approach the remaining kids, his blue eyes glowing in anticipation. In hatred. In triumph. Fenny, thinking fast, pushed Maxwell back and got to his feet. He dodged an attack by Golden Freddy and raced toward the stage room, which was the only way to go for him. He glanced back at Maxwell, who was finding his stance, smiled weakly, and disappeared into the dark party room. Golden Freddy looked between the two victims and immediately followed Fenny. Maxwell watched this unfold, and realizing what it meant, dashed down the hallways toward the path he knew had to be the exit route.

Fenny had been chosen and meant for the murder; not Maxwell. The older boy was wanted more, for whatever purpose that was, and being fully aware of that, he had made that sacrifice so Maxwell could go. So that Maxwell could find his mother. So that Maxwell could live without having to experience an unnecessary death. Maxwell wiped his tears away and ran. He wanted his mother. He wanted his home. He never wanted to come back to the pizzeria again.

Meanwhile, Fenny stood in the center of the stage room, glancing up at the three performing animatronics, the "toy" versions of the old models. Bonnie was smiling and preparing for his guitar solo. Chica was reaching with the smiling cupcake out, as if offering it for pleasure. Freddy stood in the center on the edge of the stage, offering a hand. Fenny approached the toy Freddy and took the hand, pulling himself onto the stage by his favorite animatronic. Golden Freddy had entered the room and caught sight of his target. With the bloodied knife braced in his grasp, Golden Freddy approached him, and Fenny wrapped his arms around animatronic Freddy's waist, whispering, "Please stop him, Freddy. Please stop him, Freddy," The animatronic Freddy, seemed to look down at the boy in pity, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help. Fenny's death, thankfully, came fast, and while Fenny felt the bite of the knife against his skin, he vowed not to scream. He wanted Maxwell to stay alive. He wanted Maxwell to forget that he had ever had a friend named "Fenny".

Maxwell found the entrance, but the doors were locked. He tugged and he pulled, but Golden Freddy had locked them so no child could leave. His heart sunk to the pit of his stomach; no one was going to escape. This had been the way it was meant all along. His thoughts went to his mother, and he brought himself to the window, trying to look through the foggy view to the outdoors.

Yes, his mother was there, sobbing on the sidewalk, the teddy bear abandoned beside her, the beautiful woman in a fetal position. She hugged her legs and rocked back and forth, trying to soothe herself. Maxwell felt so bad; his mother never deserved any of this pain. He had made a promise to check the restaurant's commotion and then return, but he had never fulfilled that promise. He tapped on the window, hoping that his mother would see him and know that he was there. She heard and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening in shock at the sight of her child behind the fogged glass. She scampered over to meet him, and fell on the other side, smashing at the glass with her hand.

Her hand reached through the small, shattered opening of the window, touching his face, his shoulder, his arm, and then his hand. She began to pull her child back, her face beaming, her eyes lighting up in relief and thankfulness.

"My baby," she whispered. "My baby, you're here." Maxwell smiled back as he cried. Everything would be okay. His mother was there, and they would go home and be safe and never return. He never heard the steps of the Golden Freddy behind him.

Suddenly, Maxwell was pulled back, his arm disappearing back into the depths of the restaurant. His mother's eyes stretched wide in shock and she let out a tortured "NO!" as she reached for him. Golden Freddy had raised the child up with an arm, so that he kicked in midair, trying to find ground. Maxwell bit into the arm, but only tasted the dull, dirty fur of the costume. He glanced up and saw the knife that was pointed straight at him. He felt death before it even came, and as he was dragged back to a spare room in the hallway, beyond the view of his mother, he heard his mother's cries and felt bad for even getting her attention. He didn't resist as he was thrown into a room and didn't resist as he was pushed to the ground. He didn't resist as the knife did its course and found way to his leg, his waist, his stomach, his head, and his heart. He didn't resist as he joined his four other friends.

The Marionette heard the commotion as it was going on. Three cries. Five deaths. It raised itself out of its box, its long, black arms opening wide in welcome, but there were no children there. Confused, it drifted out of its room, going down the hallway to the first room where he had heard commotion, the storage room.

A dark-skinned boy was sulking in the corner, his eyes wide and blank, his mouth parted open to let a stream of blood drip down. His body was slumped and broken and torn. The Marionette embraced the boy, kissed him on the forehead, and left a gift by him.

The Marionette found the once cute girl in the Mangle's room. The old foxy animatronic lifted its head to stare at the Marionette, its body poised to strike, but once it realized who it was, it immediately sagged in relief and turned its broad head to gaze about the tattered body of the dead girl. The Marionette understood what had happened without even being there. It just knew these things. It could sense the feeling and the disturbance in the air as soon as it walked in. The Mangle was trying to protect the girl, even if there was nothing left to protect. It kissed the Mangle's head, who looked away bashfully and retreated back to its corner where it fell asleep. Then the Marionette drifted to the girl. Her pigtails were cut so that large strands of hair was scattered on the floor. Her skirt was taken away entirely and everywhere there were stab marks. She looked as if she had been tortured before her death. Nonetheless, the Marionette kissed her on the cheek and left a present by her.

The sagging boy was not hard to find. He was in the hallway by the stage room. There was a pool of blood around him, and his foot was still twitching. The Marionette looked into the boy's eyes to find that, surprisingly enough, he was still alive. He had been fighting death ever since it greeted him. Understanding the pain, as the Marionette could, it hugged the boy and let his spirit become free. The last of the boy's life vanished from his eyes. The Marionette kissed him on his nose and left a present by him.

The Marionette then entered the stage room. On the floor, at the foot of the stage where Freddy stood, was the crumpled body of the tall boy. The leader of the group of kids who made the ultimate sacrifice for one of his friends. The Marionette felt the tension and the love that had been in the air when the scene unfolded. It drew itself up to the boy, and saw the slightest smile on his lips; the glee that he had achieved when he had helped Maxwell escape. The Marionette brushed its arm against the older boy's face, feeling the last of the warmth leave into its hand. Loving the kid for who he was, the Marionette kissed him on the eyes and let them close. The three animatronics on the stage nodded their heads in approval at the Marionette, who waved in farewell and left the last present he had brought for the unfortunate child.

But the Marionette was surprised to feel one more presence within the pizzeria. It let it guide itself down the series of hallways, all the way to where the entrance of the pizzeria was. There was a broken window, it found, and it wondered if the additional child had escaped, but the presence was still in the pizzeria, so it decided that the child had not. It entered the room where it felt the most presence, and pity washed over it as it saw Maxwell. Out of all of them, the child had not been spared by the bite of the knife. He was covered in series of wounds, deep wounds. Wounds deep enough that fresh blood still found its way out of them. His face was in such a bad condition that he would be unrecognizable to anyone, even his mother. The Marionette felt the wounds, felt the pain and the anguish that the child had to face. If it had a heart, it would be soaring with empathy, and if it had eyes that could produce tears, its tear marks on its face would be thicker and darker. The Marionette hugged the child, for it had no presents left to give; it only knew that four would be needed. The fifth was unnecessary, yet the killer had done it anyway.

The Marionette kissed the child. On the forehead. On the cheek. On the eyes. On the nose. And on the mouth. Its long, black body trembled as it was by the child. Maxwell should have lived. Maxwell shouldn't be here. The thoughts jumbled inside the Marionette. But it didn't have time for pity; it needed to give the children the last of his gifts.

The Marionette went into the Parts and Services Room to find the four old animatronic bodies stored. It managed to drag all four of them out and it proceeded to the room where the dark-skinned child was.

The dark-skinned boy was the first victim, and likely the one to want to receive revenge first. It would be the first one out every time, the first one to attempt an attack and the first one to drive fear into the hearts of adults. It would be one of the scariest figures...alive. The Marionette took the Bonnie animatronic and set it in front of the child. The victim's eyes seemed to light up at the sight of the animatronic, its old heart seeming to soar. The Marionette opened the animatronic Bonnie and dragged the dark-skinned boy inside. It would have been painful if the boy was still alive, since the endoskeleton was still in the costume, but the boy felt nothing. The Marionette nodded its head enthusiastically as it stuck the last of the boy's remains inside the suit. Then he left the Bonnie animatronic in the corner, where it slumped and waited for life.

The Marionette went back to the Mangle's lair. The Mangle stared in surprise at the old animatronics, as it understood what they were and what they stood for. It watched in keen interest as the Marionette approached the little girl and pulled the Chica animatronic out from its bundle. The girl had been the second victim, and like Bonnie, would want revenge as well. It would work in pair with its friend, going at the adults from both sides, making sure that this time the murderer would not escape. As it had done with the boy and Bonnie, the Marionette did the same with the girl and Chica. It left the animatronic in the corner, kissed the Mangle on its face, and departed to the hallway.

The sagging boy, though the shyest, had been the most loyal, the Marionette reminded itself as it brought the last two animatronic bodies. The boy went back for the girl, though he knew that he would be killed in the process. He wasn't a killer. He didn't want revenge. He would keep everyone safe, even the adults. And for that, he was put into the Foxy animatronic.

The last was Fenny, the one meant to be his favorite animatronic: Freddy Fazbear. The toy Freddy noticed the animatronic at once and looked on in its approval. The Marionette kissed each of the toy animatronics before proceeding to put the leader into the leading animatronic. This was what it felt it had to do. To bring about gifts for the children who didn't get the opportunity in their life to live. The Marionette thought about all of the children it was going to save and spread its arms wide in welcome, this time for a purpose.

The animatronics were alive. Not just turned on, but they had the spirits of the children within them. Freddy (Fenny) stood up, wobbling a bit because his movements were uncertain. He gazed about his hands, his endoskeleton eyes widening in shock and disbelief. He turned and moved and looked at his new body. His child thoughts as well as his animatronic thoughts flooded his mind, and he gripped his head in pain and sadness. The Marionette embraced Freddy, hissing him on the eyes as he had done to the old child. Freddy looked back at the Marionette, trying to speak, but only a raspy voice came out. A groan that was disgusting and terrifying. Freddy closed his mouth and tried again, but only with the same results. He began to shake, and the Marionette hugged him, willing him to understand why. Freddy did get it, but he didn't like it as much as the Marionette thought he would.

Freddy followed the Marionette out into the hallway. Foxy (Philip) was there, leaning against a wall, his jaw parted in what appeared to be a pant. The Marionette drifted to the animatronic, who jumped at the sight. The Marionette hugged him, and Foxy understood too. Foxy looked to Freddy, and though he saw the idol of the restaurant, he knew that his friend was in there too. They embraced, happy to be in each other's company.

They found Chica (Chessie) and Bonnie (Brigham) with each other already, the Mangle having been by them and explaining what had happened. Their eyes lighted up when they saw Freddy and Foxy making their way down to them. The Marionette danced happily at the gifts he had brought to them; the pizzeria meant all the more now that there was another chance. Everyone could be together...forever.

But the new animatronics were looking at Marionette's with quizzical looks. Even without voice boxes, there was a silent communication driven, and the Marionette felt their questions were about the last child. The one with the unnecessary murder. It shuddered at the remembrance, and reluctantly guided the four of them to the room where the last child lay. The Mangle, Balloon Boy, Toy Freddy, Toy Chica, and Toy Bonnie followed behind, confused as to what was there.

Chica and Bonnie were the first to embrace Maxwell when they saw his tattered body. They hugged him, held him close, and brushed their animatronic hands around his cold face, cold arms, and cold legs. They were soon covered in the boy's blood. Foxy stood close by, bristling in anger, the feeling growing worse with every glance at the wounds along Maxwell. He thought that his experience with the knife was bad; this was much worse. Freddy walked forward to get a look at his old friend. Chica and Bonnie immediately stepped back, and Freddy knelt down beside Maxwell. He tried to look for recognition within the boy's face, but it was destroyed and indistinct of its old features. All Freddy could do was hug the boy; Fenny's sacrifice, he realized, had been all for nothing. He wished that they could have died together and not alone.

The Marionette told them that it was time to go to sleep, for people were to inspect the pizzeria soon. Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy followed the Marionette's instruction and went back to the storage room where the old animatronic bodies once were. The Marionette told Freddy that he should follow, but Freddy insisted that there was one more thing to do. The Marionette said there were no more animatronic bodies to help give life to. Freddy said that the Golden Freddy costume had to be somewhere, along with the killer.

The Marionette said that if the killer found the body of Maxwell again, he would just do more damage.

Freddy said they had to hide Maxwell's body, whatever the costs.

The Marionette led the way, and Freddy held up the rear, the lifeless body of Maxwell in his arms.

The Golden Freddy costume was right by the storage room of the old animatronics. Freddy didn't hesitate to pry open the suit and place the bloodied body inside. The owners of the restaurant would come and find Maxwell's body; the killer wouldn't be able to destroy any of the evidence. The Marionette watched it unfold, and told Freddy that life within the Golden Freddy suit was impossible. But Freddy knew, and he was glad that it wasn't possible. He didn't want Maxwell to be stuck with them, but he did want to avenge his friend, whatever the costs. Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy would be with him as well, and he was grateful for it.

The Marionette retired to its box, wishing Freddy a good first night. Freddy sat by the Golden Freddy suit, trying to grasp the memories of Maxwell and their short time together in the stage room, where they were doing nothing but having a good time. Those memories drove his anger on. As he looked up, Freddy looked into the eyes of the killer, the night guard, the purple guy, as he was hidden in the shadows where he stood.

"Try to save them, Freddy," the night guard taunted. "Or should I say...Fenny?"

Freddy felt his rage burst, and he gave out a screech. A screech that was distorted and twisted, like a perverted version of a child's cry. He lunged for the night guard, wanting to tear the personage apart for all of his wrongdoings, but the night guard was prepared; he held a taser. When it struck Freddy, the electricity went all the way through the endoskeleton circuits, through the fleshy body parts of the remains of the child. It burnt the costume as well as Freddy's insides; the air stank quickly of cooked flesh and metal. Freddy's power circuit switched off and he fell into a slumber. The purple guy hauled the animatronic into the back room, practically throwing Freddy to the other three who were dead asleep. He locked the door for extra safety measures.

And then he turned to the Golden Freddy suit, the one thing that aided him in leading the children astray. The purple guy pried open the suit to stare again at the torn body of Maxwell, and he remembered vividly the feeling he had when he murdered the child. He wished the child hadn't been there so that his plan would have gone along without any confusion or second thoughts. But he was thankful for the child's presence at the same time, for he made catching the four children easier, and he had been an extra victim that was to be killed for pleasure, not for a planned purpose. The purple guy drew the dead body out, marveling at the blood that poured from the wounds and onto his arms, his hands, his shirt, and his pants. He had done the killing quite some time ago, yet it looked and felt as if the act had been done not fifteen minutes ago.

"What to do with you..." the purple guy murmured. "The suit can't hide your body." Holding Maxwell's body tight, as if he were truly taking care of it, he walked down the checkered hallways, taking sight of the blood trails that he made from one children to the next. The bodies being stuffed into the animatronics made it worse; blood had poured from every opening in the costume and did well to stain the floor and anything the animatronics came into contact with. The purple guy merely spat at the sight, as he was used to the crimson liquid. He unlocked the entrance to the pizzeria, stepped out, locked it again, and vanished from sight.

Meanwhile, the Golden Freddy suit, lifeless and without an endoskeleton, stared at the wall across from it with empty, black eyes. It knew of its wrongdoings, of the man that manipulated its appearance to win the trust of the children. It knew that because of it, no child could ever find happiness in its sight again. That part was for the best. However, it would be seen as another opportunity for adults. It decided it would never let that happen again. It decided that no adult would get away with another murder at the pizzeria. It decided that all children would remain safe from adults, no matter the costs. Even without a body or endoskeleton, it still had a bidding. It still had a purpose.

The tiniest specks of white dots began to glow from Golden Freddy's shadowy eyes. This was what Maxwell wanted.

A police officer was making a report: _Last night, a murder was made at Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. Five children have supposedly been reporting missing by the parents, and one herself by the name of Marisa Marzworth came to the station to claim that someone had kidnapped her child. Police went to investigate the area and broke into the restaurant. They were appalled to find blood everywhere. From numerous samples and blood tests, they have confirmed that they match that of the missing children's profiles. Fenny Lane, Brigham Garrant, Chessie Bay, Philip Holman, and Maxwell Marzworth have been confirmed to be dead, though none of the bodies were recovered in the crime. The murderer has been identified, though his information has been classified. The only information willing to be given out is the fact that he was an employee at the pizzeria, a night guard, so he had the trust of the other employees, access to all parts of the restaurant, and held the keys that could lock and unlock the main entrance. His accessibility enabled him to win the trust of the children and lure them to their deaths._

 _We have tried to question the parents and got minimal success. Shortly after Marisa's report and the investigation, there was a recording from the security cameras within the pizzeria, which was the tool used to find out who the killer was. A lot of parts were fuzzy after it showed the killings, but fifteen minutes after, it gained picture again. All of the bodies except for Maxwell's were removed somehow, we assume by the killer. The animatronics, having a criminal record mode set to them, tried to hide the body of Maxwell so that later investigation could find the body, but to no use. The remaining animatronic, Freddy Fazbear, was disabled, and it was clear that the killer took the body of Maxwell and destroyed it outside of the restaurant. Marisa Marzworth went missing this morning, only to find her body washed up on a beach. News reports say she jumped off a cliff and into the water, not surviving the fall._

 _Her reasons are clear, and can be expressed by the final words she presented to the suit that would have held her dead child: "I'm sorry baby...I wish I'd been there."_


End file.
